


the sea never sleeps

by donutcats



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: College AU, M/M, everyone is happy and alive au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5325008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutcats/pseuds/donutcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Graduation comes and goes before they know it, and then they're crammed in a UHaul coasting out East.</p>
<p>Harvard of all places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sea never sleeps

**Author's Note:**

> like many of my works, this was something I wrote to a friend on skype in sections as a gift, and it grew into more
> 
> it actually started out as only the first few sections and the very end, I had to add in scenes so it didn't feel like literally an entire day was missed out on

Graduation comes and goes before they know it, and then they're crammed in a UHaul coasting out East.

Harvard of all places.

Gansey has a moment, somewhere in Virginia, only hours after they've visited D.C when he grumbles about going to Harvard.

How it feels stereotypical, how media has turned Harvard into something that feels much more mainstream than it is.

All it takes is Adam hissing out his name, as a warning, for him to snap back into himself, to blink and apologize. To roll right into a very Gansey like spiel about how historical Boston is, how he'll have to start up a whole new journal all about the innate power running below the very streets.

Adam doesn't think Harvard is stereotypical. Doesn't see it as anything less than it is. Ivy-league. Prestigious. Everything he needs.

They settle into a dorm- Gansey insisted on the true college experience, even though he could have afforded an apartment anywhere near by. Adam was secretly hoping for the apartment, something nice in Cambridge maybe.

The first week, between getting their schedules sorted, they manage to move in fully. Or as fully as they can.

Gansey once again insists on the college experience, dragging Adam to a consignment shop. They find a futon in good shape and a coffee table that Gansey calls "lovingly used- antique some would say."

Adam says it's just scuffed up. Gansey says that's the charm.

Gansey talks to Blue on the phone every night. He's stopped being so secretive about it, though he still sits in their small bathroom.

It must be a habit, Adam thinks. Comforting and familiar, to hear her voice while sitting up against a bathtub.

Adam talks to Blue as well. Mostly via text, because he's too busy to have a proper conversation. He loves texting, actually. It gives him the freedom to read and reply when he's able.

He texts Ronan too, sometimes. It started out as stilted conversations that Ronan hardly ever replied to. It then dissolved into Adam just, randomly sending him emojis whenever the mood struck him. Oddly enough, Ronan replies to those more than texts with words in them.

They fall into a routine, just the two of them. During the week, they attend classes, make sure the other isn't late. They eat lunch together when they can, when they both have the time.

Adam stays up until the early hours studying, because he might have made it to college but that doesn't mean anything. He has to _stay_ in college.

Gansey goes to bed around 11pm, wakes up various times throughout the night if he can't sleep, keeps Adam company until Adam is either done with his work or falling asleep at his desk.

The coffee maker tucked into the corner is always chugging away, no matter the time.

\---

The first text he gets from Ronan, words instead of an emoji, is just _'be ready @8'_

Adam tries to reply back, to ask if Ronan can be a lot less vague. But he gets nothing.

Finally he tells Gansey, after a few hours worrying away in the library and not being able to focus.

Gansey is eating lunch in Harvard Yard. Adam remembers Gansey's voice as he grumbled the word _stereotypical_ all those months ago.

When he shows Gansey the text, Gansey waves the phone away, finishes swallowing some of his sandwich.

"It's Ronan, he enjoys being vague just to watch people squirm."

"But he never lies, Gansey." Adam continues to hold his phone out, even as the screen dims.

Gansey lays his sandwich down gently- turkey with light mayo, and wipes at his mouth with a napkin. "Well," he drawls, thoughtfully, thumb drifting up to his lower lip, "I suppose we should be ready at 8, PM and AM, for the just in case."

"I don't like this."

"No, I don't either. But again. It's Ronan. There's very little he does that we actually get enjoyment out of."

\---

Eight o'clock comes and goes. The sun sets, the stars wink into existence. Adam throws himself down at his desk, rubbing at his eyes and vowing to get at least some work done.

He wakes up to the sound of his alarm, a blanket around his shoulders. Blearily, he reaches for his alarm, shuts it off, and then checks the time.

Quarter to 8.

It takes him a minute, a minute of wondering what he and Gansey will do today, one of the few days they manage to have free at the same time, before he's sitting bolt upright.

Adam looks around, notices Gansey isn't in by the lack of his jacket hung on the back door. His phone buzzes, and the blanket falls away as he jerks towards it, snatching it up.

_'Are you ready?'_

It's from Gansey.

His heart mellows from a jackhammer against concrete to a manual hammer against a wooden beam.

_'Ready for what?'_ Adam sends back.

The reply comes in the form of a shrugging emoticon. Sometimes Adam curses Blue for showing those to Gansey.

\---

After getting dressed and stumbling out the door, he meets Gansey at a cafe in Cambridge. It's no Starbuck's, or one of the many Dunkin' Donuts, but it's just as good. A small place that's reasonably priced and always has their heat up high.

Which Adam is thankful for, as he stomps the snow off of his boots at the front door.

He slides the beanie off of his head, stuffing it in his jacket pocket as he orders a coffee. The guy behind the counter smiles at him, and Adam smiles back because he's a polite person.

Barring the fact that barista guy might possibly maybe be cute.

Once the cup with _Parrish_ scrawled on the side is in his hands, he's telling the barista to have a nice day and the barista smiles wider and- Adam thinks this day is off to a good start.

He finally finds Gansey, tucked into the corner with his laptop plugged in.

"Anymore texts?" Gansey asks, eyes flicking up and then back to his screen, glasses perched on his nose.

Adam shakes his head, settling down in the seat across.

He's still smiling, even as he sips at his coffee, and Gansey must notice, because then he's smiling as well, brow arched.

"Is that a number on your cup?"

"Maybe." Adam enjoys vaguity, when it's not directed at him.

There's about a few inches of coffee left in his cup when he's reminded about being ready.

The reminder comes in a 5 foot package of shredded fabric resembling clothing and a shock of blue.

"Jane!" Gansey's voice is filled with wonder, the same tone he uses when making an exclamation in the middle of a field filled with rune stones and pulsing with energy. Like it's the best find of his life.

They're a tangle of limbs in a very small cafe chair, and below Adam's initial shock, he's glad the wall is there, else Gansey would have toppled over.

"You're hair." Adam finally manages, after blinking a few times to make sure she was indeed real.

Blue turns to him, her smile a hundred watt and infectious, arms and legs wrapped up in Gansey. Her hair is the same uneven mess it always has been, held in place with various clips. Except, well.

"I know. I decided to fully embrace my namesake. Make it into a conversation piece. 'Hello, my name is Blue. Yes, like my hair. Thank you.'"

Gansey's hand has drifted up, fingertips skipping gently over her bright hair, his eyes sparkling.

Adam finds it amazing, how Gansey can look absolutely in awe of Blue every single time he lays eyes on her.

"So," Adam places his coffee down, folding his arms on the table, "is this what we had to be ready for?"

Blue's smile curls into something different, no longer taking on an air of glee, but something more secretive. Instead of answering, she just tucks herself closer to Gansey, speaking words only for him. Making a bubble for them both.

Adam is about to get angry, to ask what the hell, when he hears a chair scrape across the floor and land next to him.

Then, there's Ronan. Straddling the chair backwards, not smiling but not frowning either. He glances at the pile that is Blue and Gansey, glances at Adam, and then he's snagging the cup in front of Adam.

Adam watches in shock, as Ronan pops the top, takes a generous gulp, and in place of a greeting spits out, "That's fucking disgusting."

All he can do is laugh.

Laugh because Ronan is here, because things have changed in his life but Ronan is a constant, because Ronan hardly ever changes. It feels like something has swelled inside of him, making him genuinely happy at just the sight of Ronan's grimacing face.

Ronan's head snaps to look at him, and Adam is struck with how familiar he looks that it almost takes his breath away. That could also be from how hard he's laughing, if Adam is being logical.

His head is still shaved, tattoo still hooking over his shoulder, leather bracelets still hanging on his wrist. His eyes still holding that glint in them.

One thing that looks different though, are the bags under his eyes.

Months ago, when they were still Aglionby boys, still living in a small town with danger around every corner, months ago the dark circles were always present. Always pointing out how Ronan either never slept, or when he did it was hardly pleasant.

Now though, there's no trace of them. Smooth pale skin where bruises chronicling his nightmares once were.

Adam gets himself under control, ignores the grin from Blue, and steals his cup back. "Good to see you, Ronan."

Ronan doesn't frown, ducks his head before looking back. "Yeah, I guess it's nice to see you too, Adam."

\---

"So, how was the drive?" Adam asks, pulling his hat back on as they stand outside of the cafe, already parting with Blue and Gansey because they wanted to hang out, _alone_ , as Blue not so subtly stressed.

Ronan flips up the hood of his jacket, glares out at the road. "Didn't drive."

Adam pauses, his own jacket zipped halfway. "What, why not?"

Ronan shrugs. Irritated only if you didn't know him. Dismissive if you did. Adam knew Ronan.

"Couldn't afford the gas." He turns to Adam, jerks his chin, indicating that Adam should get walking, lead the way to wherever the hell they're headed to.

So Adam does, turns easily and starts down the street. Doesn't wait for Ronan because he knows he'll follow.

Ronan does, falling into step beside Adam easily.

"You? Couldn't afford gas?" His tone makes it sound impossible because it is.

"Blue." Ronan says simply. "You know how she can be. 50/50 or not at all, and the gas plus all the tolls were pretty expensive. So we took a plane instead." He stuffs his hands into his pockets, shoulders curling against the New England cold. "Technically the plane was more expensive, but she started on about carbon footprints and bullshit like that so I just told her to shut up and pitch in for her ticket."

"That was awfully nice of you."

Ronan makes a noise, and Adam hides his smile in the folds of his scarf.

They walk for a bit in silence, arms brushing every now and then, as they make their way down the sidewalks.

"So, are you two friends now?"

Ronan makes another noise. This one is less annoyed sounding though. Adam takes it as a yes.

Adam knows Ronan only reverts to making noises in reply when he doesn't actually want to answer. Since Ronan doesn't lie, if he doesn't actually say anything, well.

"Where the fuck are we going anyways?" Ronan asks after another few minutes of walking.

"The library."

"That's so lame." But there's no venom in his words. More exasperation than anything else.

Adam just shrugs. "It's better than following Blue and Gansey back to the dorm.

Ronan visibly shudders at that, which makes Adam laugh.

He can't remember the last time he laughed this much in one day.

\---

They spend the morning in the library. Adam tries to study, utterly fails as Ronan keeps himself entertained by reading aloud various books he finds.

With the amount of side commentary and swear words mixed in, Adam suspects every reading would be considered the abridged version.

Finally, somewhere in the middle of a dramatic telling of Moby Dick, where every mention of the word Moby is replaced with Massive, Ronan snaps the book shut and demands lunch.

Actually, it only sounds like a demand, when really Ronan suggests they get lunch in that way of his that leaves no room for argument.

Adam suggests they take a bus to Boston, instead of trolling around Cambridge.

"You came to visit, so you might as well get a proper tour while you're here." Adam says as he counts out change.

Ronan doesn't say anything, quietly let's Adam pay for his own fare.

They sit near the back, Ronan commandeering the window seat. Ronan stretches out, taking up most of the room, and Adam settles in around him without much of a thought.

It's something he's become used to, over the years. Slotting himself in around Ronan, only demanding space when it's necessary.

At first, it never seemed necessary, mostly because at first he didn't want to upset Ronan, much like one eyes a spider warily. Then, it felt more and more necessary, to assert that Adam exists, that he deserves space.

Then, somewhere along the line, it fell into a sort of lull, where Adam didn't need to demand it because Ronan only took up just enough space. Enough to look like he has no cares but still leaving Adam with what he needed to not feel suffocated.

So, that's how they sit, Ronan splayed languidly across the bus seat, legs stretched out, one arm hanging along the back, and Adam, sitting with a knee pressing into Ronan's thigh and an elbow resting near Ronan's ribs.

They inhabit each other's space, that's just how it is.

\---

"This place is a fucking mess," Ronan states, a little too loud for Adam's liking as they sit down with their lunch. "I love it."

Adam just rolls his eyes, unwrapping his sub. "It's not a mess. It's just, cozy."

"It looks like one of those dingy old fishboats threw up all over the walls."

"It's _charming._ "

Ronan snorts, half of his own sub already gone. "Don't Richard Gansey III me."

"Gansey isn't the only one who uses the term charming." Adam smooths out a paper napkin on his lap.

"It takes a certain Gansey like air to make the word sound so condescending, though." Ronan points out, plucking the straw from his soda, opting to drink it straight from the glass.

Adam, sadly, has to agree. "You know he doesn't mean it."

"Gansey doesn't mean half the shit he says. He's always on my ass about 'it's the tone of your voice Ronan, not the words.'" Ronan mimics the certain lilt of Gansey's voice, the kind that only comes with hopping around the globe at such a young age. "Does he listen to his own advice? 'Course not."

Their table is situated near the back window of the small dinner, looking out over the harbor. A duck boat idles by, clearly not in service. The waves lap lazily against the poles of the dock, and Adam can hear the dull conversations of the other patrons.

"Can we talk about something that isn't Gansey for five minutes?"

Adam swears he feels the tickle of crisp leaves against his left ear, and he can't help but rub it against his shoulder. Ronan arches an eyebrow, but doesn't comment.

"What do you wanna talk about then? If there's a no Gansey rule, can there also be a No School Talk rule? I know it'll be hard for you."

"Don't you want to at least know if I'm doing well?"

Ronan leans back, his wrist drifting up to his mouth as he stares out at the harbor. "You're doing fine in all of your classes, running yourself ragged. Living off of coffee. Nothing I don't already know."

It's silent after that, as Ronan chews on his leather bands and Adam finishes his sub, wondering the whole time if he really is that predictable.

"Are you going to finish?" Adam motions to the untouched half of Ronan's sub.

Ronan shakes his head. "Nah, I'll take it for later."

"You complained about how you were, and I quote, 'starving your ass off- I think my stomach is eating itself', and you didn't even finish?" Adam tries not to smile, really he does.

He fails.

"It must have been the terrible décor that made me lose my appetite." Ronan vaguely motions to a fishing net hanging on the wall, with a plastic lobster caught in a perpetual state of distress, stuck among the mess.

Adam's smile widens, "You just wanted out of the library."

Ronan conveniently hides his mouth behind his hand, leather making their way back to his teeth. "You have no proof."

\---

"You really want to go to the Touch Tank?"

"Yes." Ronan replies, making his way through the crowds of the aquarium.

"Well alright," Adam keeps close by, not really wanting to get split up. The New England Aquarium was busy today, busier than Adam was anticipating for such a snowy day. The aquarium was more of a summer thing. "Just don't push any kids out of the way."

Ronan stops short, causing Adam to knock into his shoulder. "Do you think security would rush over for just pushing a kid over?"

_"Ronan."_

"I'm joking." He starts walking again, hands stuffed into his pockets. "Pushing children, what type of person do you take me for."

Adam hurries after him. "A shitty one."

Ronan huffs out something close to a laugh, then his hand is darting out to grab Adam, as he takes a sharp corner. "Don't get lost."

"Who's the one who has been here before? I'm not going to get lost," Adam says, as Ronan's hand relaxes its hold on his arm, "you might, though."

Ronan arches an eyebrow, but doesn't reply. His fingers slip down, skip past the hem of Adam's jacket sleeve, wrap around his wrist loosely.

Adam doesn't say anything, just stares at Ronan's fingers, at the knuckles and joints, at the contrast between their skin, even as Adam's has lost the tan from summer, it's still darker than Ronan's.

He bumps into Ronan's shoulder, again, when they come to a stop. Blinking away any last remaining thoughts of Ronan's skin, Adam realizes they're at the Touch Tanks.

As Adam had predicted, there are swarms of children around the waist high tanks, showing each other starfish and hermit crabs excitedly.

"Let's go touch some fucking crabs." Ronan declares, far too loudly for Adam's liking, as a mother glares at them.

"Why do you have to say it like that."

"That's how I say everything."

And then he's tugging Adam through the crowd, up to one of the tanks. Ronan says a quiet but firm _excuse me_ to two little girls, who move aside easily, giving him small smiles.

"See, I can be a decent person." His hands plunge into the tank, reaching automatically for a small purple starfish, scooping it into his palms. Adam is proud that he didn't add the F word into that sentence, no matter how ironic it would have been.

Adam snorts, elbowing Ronan to make more room. "Shut up and hand me that sea snail."

"Why hold a _boring_ sea snail when you could cradle a god damn horseshoe crab like it's your child."

His reply comes as a sigh and hands cupping together in the water, as Ronan gently places his starfish down to hand Adam a horseshoe crab. "It's a shame they don't have any giant isopods."

Ronan stops, eyes wide and blinking at Adam, the purple starfish held between his fingers. "That would be so fucking cool."

The laugh that bubbles out of him is breathy, is filled with surprise at the sheer genuinity of Ronan's voice. "It really would be."

\---

“I’m telling you, those penguins were mocking me.” Ronan’s voice drifts over, from where he’s looking at the stuffed animal section of the gift shop.

Adam furrows his brows, picking up a magnet to look at closer. A cartoon octopus is asking him how many tickles can he give, the punch line in happy bubble font at the bottom. "I doubt the rockhopper penguins were mocking you."

"You knew exactly which penguins I was talking about though." Ronan slides in next to him, hip resting on the magnet kiosk. A small penguin plush is tucked under his arm, resembling the same animal Ronan swears was out to get him. "For Blue," he answers simply, before Adam can even ask. "What are you looking at?"

Instead of pushing the subject, at whatever new found friendship the two of them share, Adam hands over the magnet. "The pun is horribly inaccurate."

_"Tentacles."_ Ronan reads, the line of his eyebrow harshly arching. "Terribly inaccurate. You'd think a place like this would know better."

"You would think."

It takes them a few more minutes to look through the gift shop, but finally they're at the register, Ronan pulling out his card before Adam can even reach for his wallet.

"Ronan."

But Ronan ignores him, thanks the cashier with a nod of his head, stepping out of line and towards the exit. When Adam huffs and finally joins him, Ronan rifles through the bag and shoves Adam's things into his arms.

"There, I bought them for you, like a gift."

Adam stuffs the shitty octopus magnet, the dvd about ocean life produced by the discovery channel, and the plush seal he decided he wanted on a whim back into the bag. "It’s like you're saying thank you for this amazing day."

"Watch your tongue, Parrish." There's no bite, just the promise of a smile curling around the words.

They make their way out of the aquarium, the cold air biting at their cheeks the minute they step outside. Street lamps have flickered on, the sun a splash of color on the horizon.

"How long were we in there?" Adam pulls out his phone, turns it back on.

"Long enough." Ronan replies, his tone lazy, like he has all the time in the world.

Adam means to just check the time, but then his attention is caught by the texts Gansey has left him. There's only two, asking when he might be back, nothing too worrisome, but Adam still curses himself for missing them.

There's a knock to his shoulder, and when he looks over, Ronan's tugging on his hood. "Just tell him we're busy having fun without him, and we'll be back when we're back."

"Why don't _you_ tell him. That way he'll be positive that only you can be that rude." Adam narrows his eyes, winding his scarf around his neck with the hand not holding his phone.

The phone gets plucked out of his hand a second later, Ronan's fingers quickly tapping at the screen, shoving it back to Adam before he can register it was gone. "Done."

Ronan reaches out again, and Adam thinks for some reason he might take the phone back, but then he's pinching Adam's scarf between his fingers, tugging upwards until the blue fabric covers the lower half of Adam's face.

His fingers linger for a moment, hovering where the scarf ends and Adam’s skin begins, his eyes half lidded, watching his own hand, making note of how, with one small movement, his fingertips could ghost across Adam’s cheekbone.

Adam looks back, watches Ronan, eyes wide, making note of how enraptured Ronan looks, how his breath hitches in his throat as he waits for Ronan to touch him.

The spell is broken a second later, when a kid screeches in delight, barreling by and knocking into Adam. A father soon follows, a quick apology as he passes by, chasing the kid.

Ronan fixes his hood, hands stuffing deep into his pockets. "Know any good places to eat around here, that aren't shitty sailboat dinners?"

\---

It's creeping closer to two am, and Adam is thankful that he doesn't have any classes tomorrow, as he watches the streetlights blur by outside the bus window.

The glass is cool against his forehead, and he can feel the bumps and bruises of the road through that one contact point, as the bus bowls through potholes with hardly any care.

There's a shoulder pressed against his, on the other side of his body. The warmth in contrast to the cold of the outside seeping through the window.

Adam twitches his hand, fingers stretching and reaching. Curling when they meet their destination.

Ronan doesn't say anything, his own fingers curling around Adam's.

"Are you tired yet?" His voice is low, as he pulls their joined hands into his lap.

Adam shakes his head, skin sliding along the window, pushing at the edge of his knit beanie. "Are you?"

He intertwines their fingers, tracing with his free hand the faint veins along the back of Adam's hand. Ronan's voice is quiet, a whisper, a soft sound, something tender and secret.

"I've never felt more awake."


End file.
